


Defining Love

by gubby3



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluffy with some angst, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, everyone is super awkward cause feelings are harddd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 20:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubby3/pseuds/gubby3
Summary: When interviewing fellow students for his film project, Lance meets Shiro for the first time.  Speaking to his hero leaves Lance with feelings far beyond admiration, and he becomes set on pursuing him (against everyone else's recommendation).  Watching his best friend pine harder than he's ever seen before creates new emotions inside of Hunk as well, who has no idea what to do about them.





	Defining Love

**Author's Note:**

> I really shouldn't be starting another story, but this idea hooked its claws into me! If you like this so far, please leave a review. I love getting to see what you readers think, and regardless of bookmarks or kudos, no feedback can be really discouraging. I'm not demanding paragraphs, but taking a moment to comment means a lot to me, and makes me feel like all the time I put into this was truly worth it. If you want me to work faster, just review! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

It’s the first day of February, and the month’s underlying romantic tones are quick to seep into the atmosphere. Lance McClain, a film studies major, waltzes with far more passion and energy than he ordinarily would have on a Monday morning. A hop in his steps and his smile growing wider per second, Lance defies the constant drowsiness that plagues him at the start of a new week while heading to his first class. Vibrant pinks and reds are scattered all across campus: balloons, streamers, and ribbons fill his vision at every glance, his feet lifting higher off the ground with each one that enters his sight. Knowing his best friend, Hunk, heavily contributed to the decorations leaves him more in awe, giddy at hopeful thoughts that come with the month of love. 

The oppressive, heavy air feels far less bitter. Sunlight may not have touched down yet, but the clouded sky and chilly breeze do nothing to sway the student’s cheer. His excitement and uncontainable glee shield him from the external forces attempting to impose on his good mood. Even as he places his hand on the door of Geology, the mandatory science class he regrets picking for the general ed requirement, Lance’s feelings don't falter. Valentine’s Day is Lance’s favorite holiday, and this year, he has big plans for it. 

This is why it doesn't bother him, after practically skipping to a seat (in the front no less), when he reaches for his backpack to find no straps perched atop his shoulders. His back had felt far less crushed than it should’ve been on a school day. Somehow, instead of sulking, Lance’s cheery face begins to glow from the overwhelming anticipation bubbling inside of him. Like a spring, he shoots out of the chair and dances along the old wooden floor of the classroom, each tile releasing its own unique whine as his feet press off them. With one final twirl, Lance swings the door open once again before exiting silently. 

The odd grace of his movements leave the unnoticed professor stunned in place. Not only was Lance an hour early, but he actually wasn't half asleep for once. Instead, the most unenthusiastic student in class had transformed into nothing short of a ballerina. Utterly disturbed, Coran rubs at his throbbing temple, leaning on the nearby wall for support. His mind begs for a logical answer to what he’d just witnessed. Had he been dreaming, or awaken in some alternate reality? Maybe that Dr. Slav from the Cosmology department is on the right path... 

The forgetting of his backpack hardly makes a dent in Lance's positivity barrier. The student simply strolls to his dorm, humming as he embarks on the retrieval mission. It doesn't matter that he has to spend over forty minutes inside searching for it. Lance decides not to question how and why his pack ended up buried under his pile of dirty laundry, barely spotting the straps sticking out. A small frown etches its way onto the Cuban's lips as he gently tugs at the bag from the rancid mountain. After freshman year, Hunk has refused to clean up both of their messes anymore. 

The Samoan much prefers order and clear knowledge of where everything is, while Lance is petty when it comes to upkeep (of their room that is; Lance’s face is an entirely different subject). The pair have had countless spats over it, Lance arguing that it's madness to clean when messes are inevitable and recurring, reminding his friend of insanity's definition. Hunk counters by stating organization decreases stress and anxiety. He'll go on to reference some study that shows the brain is constantly on the lookout for problems to solve, clutter to clear, chaos to remedy and so on: A clean room is one step closer to having a clear mind. At that point, Lance either zones out while expertly nodding at all the correct times, or leaves the room entirely, hands thrown up in exasperation. It depends on his mood during the verbal brawl.

Last night the two had a mild clash over the heap of laundry shoved into Lance's side of the room. It towers threateningly high, appearing more as a single entity rather than random articles of stacked clothing. Lance grits his teeth. If Hunk had taken care of this monstrosity like he used to, Lance would be back in Geology, bored out of his wits. He had originally been early to class, but now he would barely make it on time. With the backpack lodged so far below the pile, he has to slip it out gradually or face the wrath of this beast he'd created. 

A low groan rumbles in Lance’s throat and cracks the unsteady silence as he eyes the teetering stack. Thin fingers pull at the bag with extreme caution, hesitant to continue but having no other options. Just as half of it is freed from its putrid prison, the student wiggles his tingling nose. Fear paralyzes every inch of his being. He rushes to cover it, but is unable to stop the oncoming sneeze. In a terrible, gut-wrenching instant, Lance's deep blues catch a quick glance at the onslaught of overworn clothes before they rain down on him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I told you to clean your room sooner or pay the consequences.” Hunk chastises, taking another bite of his sandwich. He lowers his eyelids to focus solely on the taste, humming at the flavor. “That wasn’t some threat. If you don’t take care of your living environment, it won’t take care of you.” A loud panging sound causes the Samoan to jump a bit and struggle to swallow the food in his throat. The sight of Lance banging his head on the table makes Hunk roll his eyes, apathetic to his friend’s self-induced sorrow.

“Yes, mother, I hear ya,” When a growl thunders above him, Lance shoots the larger man an anxious grin. “J-Just kidding, buddy! I’ve learned my lesson, promise.” Hunk grunts, chewing on the last bite of his meal and piling up his trash. “Apology accepted. I only hope you stick to your word this time. If I find you suffocating under a second dirty laundry avalanche, I won’t save you. I’ll leave you to fight your way out.” The Cuban hops off the table bench to point an accusing finger at Hunk. “No way, you’d never leave a friend to suffer, especially not your best buddy!” Hunk merely snickers, smirking up at the other man. “I wouldn’t rely on that assumption if I were you.”

Lance crosses his arms over his chest, assessing Hunk’s words and the possible truth behind them. Would he really not help him out? Normally Lance would say no, but the mocking expression and the recent fights they've been having leave him uncertain. “Whatever, what you would do doesn't matter anyway. My room is going to be spotless from now on, just you wait!” 

Hunk snorts at the confident statement. He’s well aware that there’s a very low chance of Lance actually doing it, but he can't help but wonder if this is the time he finally keeps his promise. Before he can fully consider the possibility, Lance is in his face, wielding a bright smile. Hunk’s cheeks flush, the sudden close proximity and Lance’s objectively dazzling features catch him off guard. The alluring spell is broken once the Cuban latches onto his broad shoulders. 

“Enough about that nonsense, let’s talk about my film project! I'm gonna head back to the dorm for my equipment, and then I'll start collecting more statements for me to work with. Wanna join me? You can lug around my video camera and mic!” After processing the words practically spat at him, each of Hunk’s facial features sink despite his friend’s opposite, eager demeanor. 

He would rather not spend the rest of the day being Lance’s assistant, heaving around his recording tools. The Cuban refuses to use his phone, even when gathering basic material. Everything has to be in the highest quality, which Hunk won’t admit that he’s impressed by. Although, the extra effort needed to shoot better footage falls to Hunk instead of the man in charge. 

Hunk sighs as he lifts Lance’s clutching hands off him. It takes several tugs to remove them, for Lance had dug his nails into the other man’s jacket collar. In the end, his grip is no match for Hunk’s brute strength. “I don’t know...I have some, uh, things I need to do later andー” As the bigger man peeks down at his friend, he gets caught in Lance’s watering, pleading eyes. Hunk groans, instantly giving in. Shameful weakness pricks at his insides, but it is appeased when Lance immediately begins to bounce on his toes. “You’re the greatest! I’ll make this up to you somehow, you won't regret it.”

The two have been best friends since kindergarten, and one quality Hunk has become accustomed to is Lance’s lack of drive towards whatever requires some real effort. There weren’t many things that Lance would take enough time for. Pushing through hardships and getting unenjoyable tasks done substantially is still an issue for him. He’s a person who likes to pick his own battles and mindlessly shove past ones he can’t avoid. 

His interests and hobbies also jumped around when they were younger: Lance would try something new and drop it just as quickly if he wasn’t ecstatic about it right away, mainly because of the difficulties that were necessary steps to improvement. Seeing the Cuban discover something he’s so passionate about and willing to work hard for fills Hunk with immense pride. Being a part of Lance’s dream career helps remedy the thought of how much more sore Hunk’s muscles will be after another afternoon of heavy lifting. 

“You're welcome, but please don't pounce on anyone like you did yesterday.” Rubbing the back of his neck tentatively, Hunk attempts to sound stern, “Not everyone feels comfortable on camera, so don't chase them down if they don't want to speak…” He pauses for another moment, then manages a sort of serious expression. “No matter how attractive they are. Are we clear?” A snort escapes from Lance, who holds back a smirk as his friend’s eyes narrow. “Fine, fine! No need to worry about me, I'll be on my best behavior.” 

Deep down, Hunk really wants to believe him. He’s known Lance long enough to expect the opposite though. With a mighty exhale of preparation Hunk rises from the seat and pats his friend on the head. His looming anxiety fades when Lance hisses at the touch, pouting after he swats the Samoan’s hand away. Chuckles spill out of him, more breaking free from Lance’s baby punches and condemning threats. For now, Hunk allows himself not to worry. Too much stress makes you think less, after all. “Okay then, let’s get filming! 

After all, what’s the worst that can happen? 

Hunk never expected that to be Lance falling in love.


End file.
